A cool crisp night,
Sharp pretty stars hidden by charcoal clouds,
I sit outside with a jacket,
Shivering out poetry to the scent of a quiet cigar.
I need poems in my life,
I need these quiet moments,
A brief bubble in which my soul can echo,
And commune with those riding this wavelength,
Taking a pen and weaving the frayed threads of life into wonder.
It's here in this space that I can recharge,
Vent the pent-up artistry this world devalues,
Salute my peers,
Distance myself from the dog-eat-dog,
Dream of bourbon and nog.
There are mysteries deeper and deeper,
What is and what lies underneath,
Reconnection to the Universal,
Unformed by the blasphemous treason of human desires,
Simply be and be me in the world I would wish.
Perhaps if I could see it vividly enough,
Write it clearly enough,
A world that values love and compassion might emerge,
A vision of a future of light.
So much we could do,
If only I could somehow share the gift of Thor's hammer,
The electricity of insight,
Meant to build rather than batter.
By: Daniel A. Stafford